


Unbridled

by CinnamonDjinn



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Coming Untouched, Dark Shiro (Voltron), Dom/sub Undertones, Episode: s06e05 The Black Paladins, Excessive Amounts of Come, Feral Behavior, Feral Keith (Voltron), Fighting Kink, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Hopeful Ending, It's wanted by both but neither are in their right mind to consent, Knotting, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mind Control, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Nipple Play, Oral Sex, Porn With Plot, Rough Sex, Smut, Top Keith (Voltron), Violent Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-20 16:01:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30007389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CinnamonDjinn/pseuds/CinnamonDjinn
Summary: No one asked the question, "What if vicious fighting was actually a mating ritual/aphrodisiac for the galra?"Shiro learns the answer anyway.Another NSFW retelling of "The Black Paladins", one with a gentle ending and a not-so gentle beginning.
Relationships: Keith/Kuron (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 50





	Unbridled

**Author's Note:**

> So hey, uh, welcome to my first NSFW ever. And I don't mean in the VLD fandom, I mean *EVER*. Sooooo let me know if I missed any tags plzkthx. 
> 
> To clarify on the mildly dubious consent tag, (minor spoilers) it's strictly because both are not in the state of mind to properly consent (Shiro is mind controlled, Keith is feral); however if they were, they'd *totally* consent, and even so they're still somewhat themselves during the scene - Keith's acting on his inner desires, Shiro's is still mostly himself except his mind is twisted by Haggar's control (temporarily). And specifically, Shiro struggling against Keith is solely because he just wants to be the dominate one - think like a sparring session. (And he's not upset at all when he loses).
> 
> All that aside, I hope you enjoy. : )

The metal groans all around him, strained from the explosives or the rage of their fight - Keith doesn’t know which. It’s not like he has time to give any thought to what it might prelude, the destruction that will entail if they keep this up; it’s all he can do to barely stay one step ahead. One step ahead of the man he came here for.

His once mentor.

His team leader.

His best friend.

His…

Keith’s chin aches from where Shiro uppercutted him seconds ago, his back sears from being slammed into the metal console, his muscles scream as he pushes them past their limits and beyond - as _he’s_ pushed past _his_ -

But suddenly it’s all starting to feel miles away. 

Something else has begun to overcome it, something Keith doesn’t recognize. Something born from his blood.

He doesn’t even realize what’s happening, so completely zeroed in on the fight at hand, frantically trying to figure out how to stop Shiro from alleviating his shoulders of his head while not hurting the possessed man in the process - but even that latter bit, a detail so important to him is drifting away. He can’t plan ahead, can’t think straight; he can only live for the moment, can’t even consider the next. 

Deep beneath the fear for both their lives, beneath the fury at Haggar for twisting the man he - he - ….

Beneath it all, something else is burning. A smoldering catch of flame that is quickly igniting into an raging inferno. If he could string two coherent thoughts together, he might have noticed how flushed his skin feels, the vibrations from the low growl building in his chest, the room becoming brighter, sharper even as the edges of his vision darken. The tang of perspiration in the air from the man he’s grappling and the sudden influx of saliva that threatens to drip pass his gritted fangs.

His pulse is racing and not just from the battle at hand.

The man finally speaks again, his voice low, cocky. So sure of himself despite his panting, despite Keith finally gaining the upper hand and threatening to put his suitor on his back -

\- beneath him -

\- where he _belongs._

It’s the last coherent thought Keith has.

  
  


* * *

It’s working. 

The plan, after so long, is finally coming to fruition.

(No...)

_Haggar was right_ , he thinks with twisted glee: their bond _does_ run deep.

(Keith…?)

It sends a thrill through Shiro’s (Shiro’s…?) spine, a flutter of anticipation through his chest when he first realizes that Keith is coming for him. He feels it again when he steps out from the shadows, his eyes devouring the sight of Keith’s worried expression, his tense form. 

(Please…)

That quivering energy sparks down his arm, elongates into a wicked magenta blade extending from his wrist that he has to - needs to - embed in the Red Paladin’s (Black Paladin’s) chest. His mind is mostly numb; it’s hard to hear over the static that fills his skull, save for the echoing whispers of commands the witch had given him and the sweet promise of their beautiful, impending end.

And he intends to see it through.

Shiro watches with sick fascination at the way Keith’s body bounces against the metal machinery, feels a tremor of pleasure when the younger man locks arms with him, just before Shiro delivers a crushing punch that knocks his helmet loose. For the first time since his awakening he laments both of their imminent deaths; not because he is afraid of it -

(Already dead)

\- but because it means the end to the fun he’s having. It’s been a hell of a long time since they last sparred and Shiro had forgotten how delicious it was to wind Keith up, to get him so frustrated that he would fall into the trap Shiro would lay. To pin the Red Paladin down on the floor and feel him squirm in a lock he couldn’t escape.

Like a fly caught in a spider web.

He wants to feel Keith squirm again.

Shiro grins wildly, maniacally as he flings Keith over the platform’s edge, knowing there’s another below that will catch him - in a way. He briefly surveys his work, delighting in the sight of Keith struggling to his hands and knees, in the quiet groans that escape his lips.

It makes Shiro want to groan for entirely different reasons.

Easily he hops over the edge to follow, readying his fist to deal a devastating - and possibly final - blow. But he had purposefully dallied so it’s no surprise when Keith recoups enough to look up at the last second and see Shiro descending like an angel of death.

What _is_ a surprise is Keith’s golden-tinged eyes, wide with shock and contrasting beautifully (horrifically) with the bruises marring his flushed face. It stuns Shiro long enough for Keith to roll away to a safe distance, to rise to his feet. He’s breathing hard but his face - those eyes - are determined as ever. It brings a flutter to Shiro’s chest once more, even as he throws jeer after jeer at the Red Paladin, going for the throat with words he knows cut deep.

But Keith, struggling for breath and for focus, remains steadfast; he won’t leave without Shiro.

“Actually, neither of us are leaving.”

The detonator has been on his belt the whole time. He plucks it off, flips off the safety, and presses the button.

The reaction is instantaneous. Explosions riddle the room. The central container of fluid that encases the clones (that encased _him_ ) bursts, showering many of the platforms below with a spray of violet. The blasts trigger a domino-like effect on the facility, slow enough to allow Shiro to draw this out as long as he likes, to savor each moment until the end.

The energy within him - a gift from the witch - spikes viciously, magenta electricity flickering over his body. Despite the agony it inflicts, Shiro focuses it into his galran arm and with a cry lets loose a blast of raw power. Keith barely manages to dodge it; instead it strikes into the last remaining support beam of the platform they are on, sending them both sliding down to its edge as it tips. Shiro pounces -

(Save him!)

\- snagging Keith hard in midair, but the smaller man _growls_ before twisting in his grasp and kicking him away. It sends Shiro tumbling down onto another platform - the fall is short and so it doesn’t take long for him to recover but he is alone - (Where is Keith?!) - 

\- a shadow flickers across the ground; he looks up and there Keith is above him, swinging down from an cable so fast Shiro hardly has time to look shocked before Keith is kicking him hard once more -

\- and Shiro is falling, falling, his own body clattering against metal, skidding in the thick, violet solution that dribbles onto the catwalk. 

He rises to his feet just in time to block Keith’s blade with his own.

It’s another brief pause in their dance to the death, and this time Shiro relishes the way Keith’s eyes glow around their cat-like pupils, how he bares his fangs in a growl that stutters around his harsh panting. It may be a trick of the lighting, but Shiro can almost see thin lines of purple curling up Keith’s cheeks like scimitars. His frame trembles, either in rage or exhaustion or both, but the press of his weapon against Shiro’s is solid with an inhuman strength. 

It seems the more Shiro pushes, the angrier Keith becomes, the more his hidden galran features are bared to sight. It’s mesmerizing. Delectable. He needs more. 

He also needs to end this.

And so Shiro lays his trap.

“That’s the Keith I remember.”

Keith’s eyes narrow further; the pupils blow out so far only a thin ring of indigo remains. With a cry bordering a roar and a burst of strength Shiro doesn’t expect, he knocks the other’s energy blade aside; as it swings in a wide arc, He bullies his way into Shiro’s space, far too close for Shiro to retaliate. Keith grabs him by the back of his hair with one hand, the other snatching at the delicate space between Shiro’s chest and hips, claws digging deep -

And slams their lips together.

The brutal clacking of their teeth hardly even registers. Wide-eyed like a deer caught in headlights, Shiro is dazed by the way Keith’s tongue slips past his lips and rubs tantrically, possessively against his own; the softness is a sharp juxtaposition to the way Keith fights to pull his body closer. His other hand slips behind Shiro’s back; his fingertips lodge firm against the taller man’s spine, staking their claim. 

Then suddenly Keith’s hips are grinding upward, and Shiro may be taller, but the Red Paladin has legs for days and so is just the right height to nestle his groin in the cradle of Shiro’s own.

Keith’s hard. Really hard. And Shiro doesn’t even need to look down to see that Keith’s legs aren’t the only thing about him that’s long

It all happens in the blink of an eye and Shiro hasn’t even _moved_ yet before Keith is pivoting, throwing the Black Paladin far away from the railing, sending him stumbling across the slickened floor and falling onto his backside. He stares up dumbly at the half galran - and he _is_ half galran, those marks are prominent now, his fangs are bared and are his ears lengthening to points? - and Shiro is too stupefied to act. The static in his mind is now louder than a typhoon but it’s nothing like before. In fact, he can hardly hear the witch’s voice any longer, too drowned out by the fierce gales of something he can’t name. 

All Shiro can do is watch with wide, reverent eyes as Keith stalks toward him, hips rolling with one slow step after another. His back is tall with intent as nimble fingers unclasp his cuirass and vambraces. He lets it all fall with a clatter, uncaring of where the pieces land and by the time he reaches Shiro, only his boots, greaves and under armor remain. 

Then he pounces.

It’s an undignified squawk of surprise Shiro gives as the two are suddenly tusseling and he’s quickly finding he is _no match_ for Keith in this state. He grabs Keith tightly but it’s like his hands are warring with themselves whether to push Keith away or pull him closer. Try as Shiro might to come to his senses, to remember what he was supposed to be doing here in the first place, it’s overwhelming the way Keith twists around him to lock his metal arm out of harm’s way while pinning him down on his front. Shiro fights to get to his knees and somewhat succeeds, the smaller man draped over his back, but it only serves to make space for Keith’s fingers to reach the clasps off his armor.

The Black Paladin snarls and tries to push back - he’s supposed to be the one dominating Keith, not the other way around! - but then Keith’s hand forgoes his attempts to undress him and instead slide down his chest, his abdomen. The threatening claws trail carefully over covered skin leaving sparks in their wake. 

They settle solidly over Shiro’s groin, cupping it with a firm squeeze.

A gasp slips past Shiro’s lips - the way Keith’s hand is angled, his palm is nestled securely along the length of Shiro’s _very-interested_ cock, while those lithe fingers drape over his balls. The hand slides further down his shaft - the friction so tantalizing, _fuck_ \- and when deft fingertips press against his perineum, Shiro throws his head back with a groan.

It’s all the leverage Keith needs; he rocks over his heels and onto his back pulling Shiro with him, resting the larger man tight against his front. Shiro’s right arm is still pinned with one of Keith’s own; he wraps his legs over and around Shiro’s and forces them wide. Keith’s so much _smaller_ , so tightly pressed to his back that Shiro can’t reach behind to grab him nor retaliate with a reverse head-butt. 

Not that he could even consider it at the moment; his attention is now fixated on the way that same teasing hand from before is undoing the hidden zipper over his groin - the one intended to allow the Paladins quick relief without needing to fully disrobe. 

Then it’s slipping inside, unseen, but oh can Shiro _feel_ _it._

Keith’s hand might still be gloved but that hardly matters; it’s been a long time since Shiro’s cock has felt a hand besides his own and it’s heavenly - and knowing it’s _Keith’s_ somehow makes it even more intense. Those fingers wrap tight around his length, just on the edge of too much; then Keith is stroking up and down, twisting his fist when he reaches the tip and tightening it only to loosen it slightly - ever so slightly - on the down stroke.

“Ah-! K-Keith!” His words are a deep rumble. Keith purrs in return and does it again.

The feeling is electric; it sends tingles up the depths of his stomach, into his chest and down his arms, both of which fall limp from the pleasure - a subconscious yield. As a reward Keith releases the pressure on Shiro’s galran arm, choosing to finish unclipping his cuirass instead. He then pulls it off with a rough motion to toss it aside (not that Shiro can care about the jostling when Keith has such a firm grip on a different, more important part of him). The moment it’s out of Keith’s hand he instead snags his claws past the neck band of Shiro’s under armor and tugs it low enough so he can get his mouth on the back corner of Shiro’s neck. 

It’s _so sensitive,_ every inch of his body tingles. So intense that Shiro can’t help but close his eyes, throw his head back and wantonly moan. His free arm is scrabbling against the floor for any sort of purchase, anything to ground him when his spirit feels like it might ascend at any given moment. The rough suckling, the barely-there nibbling - _Fuck_ Shiro wants those lips on his chest.

As Keith takes a moment to thumb at the slit of Shiro’s cock - which is dribbling so much precum that in his right mind he’d be embarrassed but right now all he can think of is _yes_ \- the Red Paladin switches from sucking on the sensitive spot of his neck to _biting_ it. His fangs don’t break the skin but the painful pleasure of it, the unspoken _promise_ of it causes Shiro to shout and thrust his hips up into Keith’s hand. Again. And again. Broken “ah, ah”s spill past his lips as he pants. The fire to dominate still burns within him and so he thrusts faster, harder, even as he’s quickly losing control of it all.

_Fuck_ it’s so fucking good - he needs it - needs _Keith -_

And just as Shiro gets a solid tempo with his thrusts, Keith’s hand locks tight around the base of his cock.

It cuts the pleasure off, keeps him in his place. Shiro cries out at the jarring sensation. His voice is nearly a snarl but Keith doesn’t seem concerned by it in the least. Instead he nimbly slides out from underneath Shiro who drops hard on his back with a painful thump and a light splash of amethyst fluid. 

Before he can sit up however, Keith is crawling over his head and on top of him, the knees of his armor uncomfortably pinning both of Shiro’s arms once more. The Red Paladin quickly pulls the opening of Shiro’s suit wider, straining it past its limits and baring the entirety of Shiro’s groin, back to front. Shiro hisses as the cold air of the facility touches the exposed skin. 

It only lasts for a brief moment; then Keith is lowering his head, sucking down nearly the full length of Shiro’s cock and swallowing around it immediately after.

“Fuck - Keith!” Shiro shouts, eyes wide. It’s so hot and wet; the way the muscles in Keith’s throat contract around his sheathed cock feels _sublime_. His hips try to jerk up, to get deeper into that glorious heat but Keith holds his legs firmly still, leaving the Black Paladin at his mercy. He bobs his head once, twice, before swallowing again and Shiro lets out a string of filthy curses. 

Fuck, why have they waited so long to do this?! Shiro should have fucked him when he first made it back to the Castle, should have pulled Keith into his room and put him on his bed and kept him up the entire night - whisper sweet nothings to Keith as he pushed his cock deep inside - 

He’s brusquely pulled back to the present when he feels a cold, wet substance gingerly touch against his hole.

Gasping in both pleasure and disbelief, Shiro tries to look up to see but the angle is too difficult. It’s only when he watches Keith scoop up more of the violet liquid before nestling back down between Shiro’s thighs that he understands. Then his mind whites out completely as one hand lifts one of his legs and the other presses that nimble finger in.

“Aaaaaaah - fuck - yes - ”

He contracts so much around the intrusion, subconsciously trying so hard to get it _in_ that his cock is twitching erratically in Keith’s mouth. In turn Keith purrs, pleased, and that alone almost sends Shiro over the edge. 

But the rapidly-intensifying ecstasy isn’t the only thing he feels. Shiro’s never been one to bottom much before. Too hard to find a partner who made him feel secure in his most vulnerable state. It never helped that almost all of his partners had been smaller than him, so it was a struggle to feel safe when he didn’t feel blanketed, that body shielding him from the rest of the world.

Now he’s lying prone on the cold, wet floor in the dying remains of the lab his body was created in - and he’s never felt so protected. Keith is a force of nature, the aura of his presence a barrier that far extends past his smaller stature, that nothing could trespass. And even in his most volatile, his most feral state, Shiro realizes that he innately trusts Keith in every way: to defend him, to safeguard him against his own demons, to take him apart and put him back together. 

The revelation strikes him hard. Shiro doesn’t want it to end anymore, he wants to live, to thrive, he want _this._ Has wanted it for such a long time, even if he couldn’t recognize it, couldn’t admit it to himself.

And so he strains against Keith to bend a knee, giving him better access.

Keith has to widen his legs in order to slide down closer, to pull the taut cheeks further apart with his free hand as he works to fit in a second finger and get it deeper than before. An unintended side effect is that it puts his groin that much closer to Shiro’s face. It’s a hell of a view, one that he can’t look away from, can’t help but stare at the dick print so prominently sculpted against the fabric. It’s close enough that Shiro can just barely graze it with a nuzzle if he tries - and so he does.

There’s a sharp intake of air from the man on top of him. His widened stance allows Shiro to slip his organic arm free - he wants to feel this, to feel Keith. Shiro’s fingers find the same hidden zipper on Keith’s body armor; unzipping it frees Keith’s cock which slips out due to its weight, gently tapping Shiro on the cheek. 

Fuck.

Shiro never considered that Keith might have had other galra traits hidden beneath his clothes as well. His dick is human-like for the most part, but there’s definitely a purplish tinge to the blood-engorged flesh, a noticeable bump at the base and _are those ridges?!_

He can’t wait any more- he has to taste it. 

Straining his neck again he swipes the point of his tongue down the length and Keith hisses in pleasure, the sound muffled by Shiro’s cock. The taste is uniquely salty: the entire shaft is already wet and Shiro watches with fascination as precum practically bubbles from the tip. He tastes it again and this time Keith groans and slides down further, resting both his cock and balls on Shiro’s face. The angle isn’t right for giving good head but it’s perfect for letting Shiro suck the entirety of Keith’s sac into his mouth, lavishing it with attention from his tongue. Keith moans even louder with Shiro’s cock in his mouth and the vibration resonates through his entire body, making it hard for Shiro to focus on the task at hand.

There’s a tightening in his groin, in his gut, begging for release. Then Keith prods at the sensitive space against his prostate and Shiro can’t resist it any longer.

His balls tighten, the muscles behind his cock clench, every second lasting like an hour - then the sweet pressure gives and Shiro can _feel_ himself filling Keith’s mouth. Pulse after pulse, like he wants to give this man every part of himself. 

And in truth he does, but he never quite imagined it like this and now he’ll never be able to go back. 

Shiro’s cock gives one final twitch, oversensitive, and then it slips from Keith’s mouth. The Red Paladin crawls off of Shiro who laments the sight of Keith’s own cock pulling away from him. Yet the view he’s presented with instead is even better: as Keith turns in place, crouching like a panther ready to leap, the remains of Shiro’s spend drips from a fang, trailing down panting lips toward his chin. He’s already crawling back but Shiro meets him halfway, finding a sudden burst of energy to sit up and kiss him hard, licking that sticky trail from Keith’s skin in the process. The taste of himself, _on Keith of all people_. 

If he didn’t feel so spent he would want to paint Keith’s face with his cum. Even as his cock softens it weakly twitches at the thought. Maybe next time - because there will definitely be a next time.

Keith twines his claws in Shiro’s hair, the sensation of the gentle tips shooting sparks down Shiro’s spine. He in turn wraps his arms about Keith, pulling him tightly close even as his kisses turn lazy, feeling sated.

But Keith isn’t feeling sated at all - far from it, if his wild expression is anything to go by. He carefully but firmly presses Shiro down onto his back, the purple liquid lapping around his body. Then he sits back on his heels and unzips the front of his body suit, peeling off the upper part of it so it hangs at his waist. Keith spares no effort to look seductive in the process but it doesn’t matter - he’s so flexible that he can reach behind his back to hold the gloves as he lifts his arms up and out, one at a time; it leaves the sight of his chest completely unhindered. 

Shiro’s eyes devour every inch of skin, every bulge of muscle. Keith’s always been lean but now Shiro is finding a whole new appreciation for the training the Blades put him through. But Keith stops once the top is removed and goes no further; Shiro wants _more._ He goes to sit up to help but Keith presses a hand to his shoulder, easily holding Shiro still.

His other hand grabs the front zipper of Shiro’s own suit and pulls it down. “Shiro…” He growls, the sound hardly even words. Half-lidded glowing eyes stare intently down at his prey, at the meal he is unwrapping. 

“My Shiro…” The look alone is almost too much, and Shiro suddenly innately knows that Keith isn’t anywhere close to done with him. His body feels drained yet his breath catches, his heart rate picks up in anticipation. He’s not ready for another bout, for what Keith has in mind for him.

He finds he wants it anyway.

Keith leans down to mouth at his neck. Sharp fangs nibble at the sensitive junction of his neck and shoulder, trail down to his collar bone even as Keith lifts his hips up to rest in his own lap. His straining, wet cock slides against the inner part of Shiro’s thigh, sticky and warm. It slips against Shiro’s loosened hole as Keith trails a hand down to one Shiro’s nipples, giving it a firm pluck. 

His hips jump up in Keith’s lap. “Aah!” 

Keith does it again. Then he twists it hard between two fingers and Shiro is shocked to see that his dick is already making a valiant effort to stand at attention once more. He cries out again and again before Keith swallows the noises down with a kiss. His tongue slips into Shiro’s mouth once more and this time Shiro tries to fight back for dominance. But Keith looms tall over him, unfazed even as he groans in appreciation. The hand on Shiro’s nipple disappears into the space beneath their hips and a second later there is something very solid pressing against Shiro’s hole, far larger than a finger.

Despite all of the previous stretching Keith still struggles to fit his cock into Shiro’s body. The tip of the head is caught just inside the opening but Shiro’s rim is still straining to take it. Keith doesn’t bully his way in but the pressure of his cock remains firm, unyielding. Slowly, _ever so slowly_ , the cockhead pushes past Shiro’s rim. His breathing is rough, caught up in a torrent of pleasure and delicious pain. Even in his frenzied state of mind, Keith still recognizes on an instinctual level that he needs to wait, to let Shiro adjust. So instead he busies himself with sucking bruises into Shiro’s pecs before wrapping his lips around Shiro’s other, neglected nipple.

“Fucking hell, Keith-” Shiro immediately grabs him by the back of the head and pulls him closer, wanting more. His hips rock of their own accord, and bit by bit Keith’s cock edges deeper in. The half galran switches back to the other nipple just as the first of his cock’s ridges slide into Shiro’s hole.

The Black Paladin hisses. “M-m-more..” Growling, Keith gives him more; he lets the rosy flesh fall free from his lips as he sits up, and instead slams his cock the rest of the way in, right down to the base. 

And then he doesn’t give Shiro any sort of reprieve as he picks up a fast tempo, his hips slapping loudly against Shiro’s ass.

Shiro’s voice is just shy of a scream. “Fuck! Fuck!” He grabs at Keith’s arms, fingers digging into the muscle of his biceps. The ridges of Keith’s cock are dragging against his walls, pushing him right past any lingering oversensitivity. He feels so _full._ So completed. His face is twisted in ecstasy once more and it’s all he can do to keep his eyes open enough to drink in the smug look of confidence that Keith now wears. 

Keith growls at the sight below him, Shiro’s skin flushed and shiny with perspiration, his hair mussed. “My _mate._ _My_ mate. _Mine!_ ”

“Yes! Y-yes!” Shiro babbles, overwhelmed. He’s falling to pieces in Keith’s arms. “Yours! Always yours-”

Another purr, and then Keith is draping himself across Shiro’s chest, pressing them close together, almost completely flattened to the ground except Shiro’s hips are still in Keith’s lap, his legs are still in the air. The intensity of Keith’s tempo never wavers. The new angle allows the tip of Keith’s cock to rub against Shiro’s prostate in just the right way.

“Ah! Ah! Ah!” Shiro’s toes are curling in his boots. His cock is straining once more, that familiar tension building anew. Distantly he feels something dragging against his rim, little catches that are becoming steadily more noticeable.

Keith presses even closer and starts licking at that same spot on Shiro’s neck from before; the latter vaguely realizes that the texture is oddly rough - not that he minds. It just adds to the cacophony of sensations that’s slowly driving him mad.

The Red Paladin nips the spot none-too-gently before growling a whisper into Shiro’s ear. “Gonna fill you _so deep._ Shiro…”

“Fuck! Fuck! Yes!!!” Even the breath of his words on Shiro’s skin threatens to send him over, but he _can’t_ , he’s never been able to come untouched, let alone twice in one session.

But he needs it. He needs to come.

Except when he reaches down to wrap a hand around his straining cock, Keith snarls and pins both of his arms above his head with one hand.

Shiro pulls against it but to no avail. “Please, Keith! _Pleeeease_!” He whines desperately, hips bucking wildly in Keith’s lap, his back arching. He looks down at his own cock and sees that it’s darkened to an almost purple, like it’s begging for relief, for release - Shiro certainly is.

“You’ll come on my cock or not at all,” Keith demands, gentle enough not to be unkind but with a tone that brokers no argument. He resumes nibbling at that sensitive spot on Shiro’s neck once more, and his free hand slides down to play with one of Shiro’s nipples again. 

The nipping at his neck, the cock pounding against his prostate, the fingers twisting his nipple, the sheer fact he’s at Keith’s _mercy_ \- he can hardly believe it but it’s no longer a question of whether he can come with his cock untouched. _It’s inevitable._

The pulling of his rim is becoming more obvious.

“Keith! Keith!”

Keith snarls and picks up his tempo even further. The base of his cock is snagging each time but it doesn’t slow him in the slightest.

“Gonna knot you - like you deserve - “

“Yes! Yes! I want it! Please, Keith!”

Just as he says it Keith’s knot fully inflates. It locks his cock within Shiro’s hole but he’s so deep, the tip continues to rub against Shiro’s prostate. His thrusts never slow, still as powerful as before, just smaller, _faster_.

“Make you my mate,” he pants, his own expression turning overwhelmed, his voice softer, “ - never let you go -”

He sinks his fangs into Shiro’s skin. 

The sharp pain and the promise in Keith’s words sends Shiro vaulting over the edge.

He screams a curse. His body thrashes with the intensity of his orgasm, even as Keith holds him down. His cock bucks erratically as it paints both of them with stripes of cum; it reaches as far as his chest, having been edged for so long. He can feel his walls unintentionally contracting, squeezing the cock deep within him. 

In turn Keith cries out, his teeth releasing from Shiro’s skin as he arches backward in the throes of his own orgasm. Shiro can feel the white hot cum filling him, spurt by spurt, and it _keeps coming_. Even as Keith lowers his head, breathing hard as he weakly laps at the bleeding bite mark he left, even as Shiro finally starts to come back to his senses, Keith’s cock is still throbbing, more and more come spurting from the tip, his hips gently rocking forward each time it does. 

Shiro’s own cock has finally flagged and his hole is certainly oversensitive, but he lets Keith carry on. In the meantime he slips one hand free from Keith’s slackened grip to wrap carefully around his slender waist, pulling him down to rest on top of him. His other hand slides an inch down, just enough to intertwine his finger’s with Keith’s own. 

As Keith finally falls still save for his heavy breathing (their heavy breathing), he squeezes Shiro’s hand back, his other resting against Shiro’s chest. There’s a hard drop of energy for them both and bit by bit, each of their breathing slows, two pairs of eyes fluttering shut.

They both succumb to sleep in seconds.

* * *

He opens his eyes to a quiet room.

It’s not silent; bits of metal continue to fall from above and there’s the occasional electrical rupture that shatter a light here and there. But the carnage has ceased - the facility is certainly beyond repair but the two of them aren’t in any risk of the place collapsing on top of them. There’s a melancholy calm that fills the air, knowing that he will be the last of his kind to leave this place, knowing the pods that rest above are no longer viable.

Knowing he is just a copy.

Yet the static in his mind is finally gone.

Shiro continues to stare up at the distant ceiling, basking in a tranquility he hadn’t felt since he first escaped the galra - _he_ , not the original Shiro. If that even was the original Shiro. The thoughts should be soul crushing: the knowledge that not only was he less than a copy, he was a puppet wielded by the witch to hurt the people he cares about most. The massive weight of it all should be tearing him apart - yet all he can feel is peace.

Clone or not, puppet or not, he’s still here. Just him - as the witch’s presence has retreated far from his mind.

Or well, maybe not just him.

Carefully, the arm Shiro has wrapped around Keith’s waist pulls him closer, trying to avoid jostling the sleeping man too much. With his other hand he gently runs his fingertips through Keith’s raven locks. It’s cold, their skin exposed and sticky. At some point while they slept Keith’s cock had slipped back out, adding further to the mess especially with how much cum must have dribbled out as well, but Shiro can’t bring himself to care.

_There’ll be time for that later_ , he thinks as he presses a kiss to the crown of Keith’s head. He knows they really should get going - their friends are still in danger - but he can’t help but wish to draw this moment out for as long as possible.

Eventually Keith begins to lightly fuss before his eyes blink open. He moves ever so slightly to look up at Shiro with a half-lidded, bleary gaze. “...Shiro…?” he murmurs. Then memory hits him fast and hard and he sits up. “Shiro!”

“That’s my name,” the Black Paladin chuckles weakly. With the way Keith is gawking at him, Shiro must look well fucked out - he certainly feels it. Keith himself looks completely mussed. The galran teeth and markings may have receded but the state of Keith’s hair, the glossiness of his peach skin, it’s all a testament to how real their coupling was.

“Are you… you?” Keith meekly asks.

Shiro nods slowly, resting his head back onto the ground with closed eyes. “She’s gone, Keith. You did it.”

“You mean we did it.”

Shiro looks back up thinking the words are a heartfelt admission, but he’s surprised to see the shit-eating grin plastered on Keith’s face instead. It takes Shiro a moment to understand why.

“Did you just…?”

The smugness doesn’t abate. 

“You punk!” Shiro laughs as he flips Keith over to his side, fingers dancing over his bare ribs. “Punning is _my_ thing!”

Fresh, bright laughter bursts out of Keith, who grabs at Shiro’s hands in a vain attempt to pull them away. “Too slow, Old Timer!” They keep rolling, the motion putting Keith on his back, who nearly squeaks when his skin touches the remains of the purple liquid. “Fuck, that’s cold!”

“Serves you right,” Shiro beams down at him, his eyes drinking in the sight of Keith below him. 

It’s a sight he wants to get used to.

They stay like that for a moment, just staring dopily at each other before Keith works up the courage to speak, his expression a little less joyful. “Hey, Shiro, are we... are we okay?”

“More than okay,” the taller man hums with a smile. A second later it transforms into a grin. “Well, my ass isn’t okay - you sure did a number on it.”

Keith groans and hides his face behind his hands in embarrassment. “Shiroooooo-”

“I’m certainly not complaining. The way you lost yourself in it? Hot as hell. I wouldn’t say no to doing it again sometime in the near future.”

Keith starts and his eyes widen hopefully. “Really?”

“Really.” Shiro leans down and presses a chaste kiss gingerly onto the Red Paladin’s lips. He sits back up, expression going soft. “I know it’s not a great time for a confession, but I love you. I’m _in_ love with you. Think I have been for quite some time.”

It could be the light but the way Keith’s eyes glisten catches Shiro’s breath. He’s never seen the man look so especially gentle, so reverent - and Keith’s looking at _him_. “I love you too. Realized it after the Trials but I think I have ever since I lost you for the first time.”

Shiro presses his forehead to Keith’s; they both close their eyes, relishing the touch. “You’ll never lose me again Keith. I - I know we have some things to figure out now that, well, we’ve seen this place, but no matter what happens, I’m always going to love you.”

“Shiro…” Keith presses up to kiss him once more, a bit hard and possessive and for a blink of a moment Shiro wonders if the younger man’s about to go feral again. Which is tempting, but Shiro would rather it be in the warmth of one of their rooms on the castle and not on a horribly uncomfortable floor. And besides, they need to leave.

“I hate to put a stop to this,” Shiro laments, looking a bit regretful, “but we need to go, baby.”

He watches as Keith silently mimes the word “baby” on his own lips, a smile on his face once more. Then he comes back to himself, expression falling serious and he gives a curt nod. “Okay.”

They clean up to the best of their ability and zip up and refit their armor. Keith pulls the coordinates for the lab so that at some point they can return here and… deal with the aftermath, whatever that might be. But that’s a problem for tomorrow.

And as the two enter Black hand in hand, as Keith sits in the cockpit and Shiro stands behind him, as he grabs the top edge of the pilot seat to hold on tight for takeoff, a warm and comforting rush of approval flutters through him.

He can tell that although it comes from within the Black Lion, the emotion does not belong to Black herself.

Shiro smiles.

  
  
  


Fin.

**Author's Note:**

> Epilogue: The team figures out the real Shiro is still stuck in Black. Allura pulls him out and puts him in the clones conscious body; the two are aligned with the merge partly because they both care for Keith and want to make him happy and so it happens without any trouble. S7 and S8 are a lot less angsty. The end.
> 
> Meanwhile:
> 
> \----
> 
> Haggar, watching Shiro beat down Keith: Yessss, yesss, let your rage consume you…
> 
> (5 dobashes later)
> 
> Haggar, watching Keith “beat down” Shiro: I said “rage”, NOT “lust”!  
> …  
> …  
> …  
> *grabs popcorn*
> 
> \----
> 
> (Later, around the campfire on the way to Earth)
> 
> Lance, having a drink with Keith: So how did you get Shiro to snap out of it?
> 
> Keith: *taking a sip* Fucked the Haggar out of him.
> 
> Lance: *spit take*
> 
> \----
> 
> You’re welcome :P
> 
> You can check out more of my writing and help me support other content creators on my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/Omnidolor)!


End file.
